A huge, huge thanks to my beta SpunTrumak :)

Warning: Before you read I wanted to say there is going to McGee Whump in this story. Just because I can, so if you don't like McGee Whump please do not read this just so you can tell me you don't like it. Thanks.

Anyway, with that out of the way. Hey guys! This is the third story in my Brother's Universe. I'm not sure if this is the last one or if I'll do one more, but until then I give you this.

So, thanks for reading, drop me a comment if you can, and I own nothing.

See ya in the next chapter...


He was bleeding. This was one wound he wasn't going to survive, no matter how much time the prison surgeons spent on him. He couldn't believe this was happening. He was six months shy of his parole hearing, had been the damn near perfect prisoner, and he was going out because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. How in the hell was that fair?

The bright side of his clusterfuck of a life, he knew his brother would avenge him. If there was one thing he had learned growing up, it was to always rely on his brother. His brother would make sure they paid for this. And he'd start with the insufferable Agent DiNozzo.

His head was starting to feel fuzzy. It was only a matter of time. They weren't going to save him. Nobody could save him.

And when he was found, a few hours later, lying in a pool of his own blood, he had been exactly right.


3 days later…

"Are you sure you don't want to go come over for a movie, McGee?" Tony asked as he, Ziva, and Tim stepped out of the building. "I just got the fourth season of Knight Rider, McBro."

"No thanks, Tony. I'm just going to go home and do some writing," McGee declined with a small smile on his face. "Maybe this weekend?"

"You're a party pooper, kid," Tony replied grinning. "One day you'll embrace your inner DiNozzo."

"Or I'll stick to being half a McGee," Tim retorted getting in his car. "Night guys," he called through his open door.

"Good night Tim," Ziva said waving.

"See ya tomorrow, Tim-Tim," Tony responded and walked towards his own car. McGee rolled his eyes at the nickname DiNozzo had started to call him, but still couldn't stop his smile from growing.

Their cars went in two opposite directions. Tony and Ziva headed towards Tony's apartment while McGee set out for his apartment. They had spent the past four days camping out at the naval yard, trying their damndest to track down a murderer. They had very little sleep, very little to eat, and very little patience for error in their hunt. And now that the perp was locked up, McGee just wanted to go home and sleep in his own bed.

McGee was about halfway home, when he noticed a younger guy standing on the side of the road. He appeared to be trying to flag Tim down, and McGee pulled over right away.

"What's wrong?" he asked rolling his window down as the guy approached the car.

"My tire's flat. I was wondering if you had a jack," the guy replied. He gestured towards a dirt road a few feet from them. "My car's just that way."

"Okay, let's take a look," Tim said and turned his car off. He popped his trunk, pocketed his keys, and got out of the car. He walked towards the back of his Porsche, digging around the back for his jack. He had just wrapped his hands around it, when he felt something jab him in the neck.

He turned, his hand going to his neck in surprise, and felt his knees give way. The kid swam in and out of focus as he caught Tim. He forced the older man into the Porsche's trunk. As everything went from fuzzy to gray, McGee caught a glimpse of a familiar pair of brown eyes.

"I-I know…" he tried to say, but his tongue felt too heavy to get the words out. As the gray slowly faded to black, the guy said, "He took my brother. So, I'm taking his."

Before Tim could decipher what that meant, the trunk was slammed and McGee blacked out.


"Hey McTim," Tony was saying as Ziva stepped off the elevator. "This is the third message I've left you. I know you're probably just running late; traffic can be a killer; so, just call me when you can. Or, you know, pick up your phone; just a suggestion." Tony hung up, tossing his cell phone on his desk, and buried his face in his hands.

"McGee is not in yet?" Ziva asked causing the older man to jump. He picked his head up, turning his chair to face her.

He gave her a ghost of his usual smile and said, "I'm sure it's nothing." Neither his voice nor his eyes convinced Ziva that it was nothing. In fact, it sounded like a big pile of something.

"Did you, perhaps, make him mad without knowing it?" she asked curiously, sitting at her desk.

"I haven't spoken to him since last night," Tony replied softly. "Unless I have developed a psychic power, over night, that causes me to piss people off without saying a word, I doubt I've made him mad."

"Has anyone else tried calling him?" Ziva pressed taking her phone from her bag.

"Go ahead," Tony said gesturing to her, "call him. He hasn't picked up the last six times I've called him why would he magically pick up for you?"

Ziva threw her partner a glare, but still hit number three on her speed dial. She listened to the phone ring once, twice, before going to voicemail. "This is Timothy McGee's cell. Leave me a message with your name and number and I will get back to you as soon as I can."

"Tim, it is Ziva. I was just wondering where you were. Call Tony or me back when you can." She almost tacked on 'we're worried' but thought that would be a bit much. They weren't one-hundred percent sure what was going on and their worry could be premature.

"Told ya," Tony said just as the elevators dinged. Hopeful green eyes settled on the opened doors, but then narrowed in disappointment when Gibbs stepped off.

The older man noticed Tony's eyes, but didn't say anything. He just walked past the two agents' desk, sat down at his own, took a sip of coffee, and said, "Where's McGee?"

"We do not…" Ziva's voice trailed off when Gibbs' phone rang. The older man picked it up and said, "Gibbs?"

The two agents watched their boss as his face became increasingly less readable with every word the other end said. Ziva spared a glance at Tony, who looked as if he were about to say something, but his words were cut off as Gibbs hung up the phone.

"Grab your gear," he said pushing himself to his feet.

"What's wrong, boss?" Tony asked staying at his desk.

"What has happened?" Ziva questioned when Gibbs neglected to answer Tony's inquiry.

For a split second, Ziva believed Gibbs wasn't going to answer, but he finally looked between the two agents and said, "Local LEOs found McGee's car."

"What about Tim?" Tony questioned still sitting at his desk. "Where's Tim, boss?"

Gibbs' look was answer enough, and both Tony and Ziva stood up and followed their boss onto the elevators.